The central theme for the Pic London work has been ‘village’. From there, several other strands have emerged. For me, these have been darkness and isolation. In addition, and within my own experience of village – i.e. the real village of Ferentillo – there is, as discussed previously Fiore, death, and mummification (chemical process of arresting decomposition and its link to photography).
The following is a short stretch of creative writing which came out of that. How it will relate to any imagery at this point, I have no idea!
On the edge of the village
On the edge of the village, too far for the water to reach
two mummies lay on plastic sun loungers,
hoping and waiting for a glimpse of death in the sky. It was dark,
but the moon was full and high.
“When I was little, you told me the stars were dead people,” said the younger mummy, accusingly. Then excitedly, “There’s one! Did you see it?” Death lights up for a microsecond.
Don’t blink.
The older mummy missed it.
“I thought the sky was filled with ghosts looking down at me.”
On the edge of the village, beyond the reach of the rubbish collectors,
the mummies remember Fiore who lived in the barn below,
a second home for the summer months. His main
house was in the village square. But he was rarely there.
“When Fiore died, who inherited everything?” the younger mummy asked.
Long ago cancer killed his wife, then his daughter did it to herself. “And another!” Ephemeral, mortal, gone.
Never put bricks in your eyes.
The younger mummy smiled.
“I think it must have been the housekeeper. She and Fiore were close.”
Far from the men who grabbed the older mummy or the women
who took against her after her own husband died,
they lay there and waited for death to arrive. Too much light
makes it difficult to see though.
“Why wouldn’t he eat Berlusconi, his badly behaved goat?” wondered the younger mummy. Then she sat up and cried, “Look! That one lasted forever.” The planet’s demise was fantastic so the mummy made a wish.
Listen instead.
Both mummies lay still.
“I think it was because he loved him,” thought the older mummy. Though she kept quiet.